


Hey, Novak!

by queen_of_hells_bells



Series: So I got bored... [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe Bartending, M/M, More Tags as series goes on, No real rhyme or reason, Random Prompts, Starts as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:14:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1217305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_hells_bells/pseuds/queen_of_hells_bells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just your run-of-the-mill bartender AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey, Novak!

The bar was crowded that night, a fuck-ton of people trying to fit into a too-small place, and Dean had a front row seat. He’d been serving drinks for nearly two hours now, and of the--seemingly--hundreds of patrons (including the ten or fifteen offers he’d had so far), only one had caught his eye. The guy was gorgeous: dark brown sex hair, shocking blue eyes (Dean’s inner Sam was telling him the color was called ‘Palatinate Blue’); his lips were full and lightly chapped, as though he spent a lot of time biting them; and his hands, oh his  hands . He clearly didn’t work with them, they looked far too soft for that, but they were long and lean, made to be wrapped around  something .

There was no  way  a guy like that would go for a guy like Dean.

 

So naturally, the guy sat down at the bar right in front of him and ordered a beer. Which comes in a bottle. Because  that  was an image Dean needed while he was working. Dean had just been handing the guy the bottle when his phone rang and he made the most (definitely  not  adorable) grumpy face Dean had ever seen, picking up the phone with a snappish “Novak.”

 

Ah, so the mystery man has a name . Dean had been thinking of him as ‘Novak’ ever since. (You know, the whole twenty minutes the guy had been nursing his beer.)

He was busy pouring out whiskey shots for (and flirting with) another brown-haired man at the other end of the bar when he heard Novak speak again: “No, thank you.” The man broke off, presumably listening to someone else speak, though the voice was too quiet for Dean to hear. “I’m sorry, I would just like to sit here with my drink and-”

At this the other man practically laughed out loud, and Dean felt a quick twist of anger in his gut. Why was some idiot trying to shove himself on Novak?  Well... ok, Dean knew  why , but they didn’t have to laugh when the guy told them to stop.

 

He finished pouring the shots quickly before leveraging himself away from the bar and moving swiftly back towards Novak, arriving just in time to hear The Jackass proclaim loudly: “A pretty little thing like you came to a bar and you didn’t expect this? You stupid or something?” He was leering at Novak, the man’s long fingers clenching dangerously around his empty beer bottle. “Now why don’t you just drop the ‘hard to get’ act and come with me?”

 

“Novak!” Dean’s voice was tumbling out of his mouth before he could process it, the words effectively stopping the conversation and causing the two men to turn curiously toward him. He swallowed nervously before pressing on. “Your break is over, Novak, get back behind the bar and help me out.” He widened his eyes slightly at the dark-haired man, mentally yelling at him to get his ass in gear and get behind the bar.

 

When Novak didn’t move, Dean rolled his eyes and turned to The Jackass. “Sorry, but my coworker here has to get back to doing his job. Why don’t you give him your number, and he’ll call you later?”  Finally Novak seemed to get the hint, standing slowly and moving back to stand beside Dean. “Sorry to tear him away like this.” Dean gave Jackass his biggest shit-eating grin, while somehow managing to look slightly apologetic.

 

Jackass gaped at them, unbelieving, before muttering something about ‘fucking dicks’, and shoving himself off the stool. Dean stood completely still next to Novak, the two of them watching resolutely until the man disappeared into the crowd.

 

The change in Novak was unmistakable. He breathed out a sigh of relief, turning to Dean with an almost embarrassed smile on his face. “Thank you.” He held out one of his long, gorgeous hands for Dean to shake. “Castiel Novak. I’d like to thank you properly...may I help you?” He gestured at the bar with his free hand, an expression akin to fear on his features at the idea of having to bartend.

Dean laughed. “No, it’s alright. I got it.” The look of gratitude on Novak’s-- Castiel’s  face was adorable. (And  damn  it, there was that word again!) “I’m Dean Winchester. You want to thank me properly,” He paused, sweeping his eyes up and down Castiel’s body appreciatively, not missing the way the man licked his lips when their eyes met. “I get off at three.”


End file.
